


Home in Your Arms

by ThatWouldBee_Enough



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWouldBee_Enough/pseuds/ThatWouldBee_Enough
Summary: After months of being separated from Alexander, John returns from France.----------------------------------------------------------------Prompt #1 - Handjob - lams
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947364
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	Home in Your Arms

“You were gone far too long,” Alexander says softly into his ear, clinging tightly in a warm embrace just inside of their shared tent. 

John had been in France for months, negotiating diplomatic terms with the French government and securing aid for the American cause. But it isn’t fair for Alexander to claim his absence has been a burden. After all, Alexander himself had insisted he accept the position, even when John had done everything in his power to decline. He can’t rightfully blame  _ John _ for doing as he told him. For doing as  _ everyone  _ told him, insisting over and over again, wearing down his objections until finally he had agreed to the diplomatic mission. 

But he doesn’t reproach Alexander for any of that now. There are more important matters at hand as he stares into those wide, intense eyes for the first time in months. He brings a hand up to his face, trails a thumb along his cheekbone. He takes note of dark circles. Alexander hasn’t been sleeping. 

“I know,” he says, matching Alexander’s volume because regardless of how long he’s been away, they are still in the midst of a war and discretion is always key in these intimate moments. “I would have come back sooner if it were possible. I missed you, Alexander.”

For a moment, Alexander just stares back at him, as if he is trying to refamiliarize himself with every line of John’s face, trying to ensure that this is  _ real _ and not just a dream born out of too many months of loneliness. Then, almost tentatively, he pulls John down to him and presses their lips together. 

A soft noise escapes, contentment and longing mingling as he parts his lips, letting Alexander in deeper. John knows his responsibility to the cause– the responsibility that  _ both  _ of them have to their cause– is more important than his own personal feelings and attachments. Their duties to the war come first. 

That doesn’t make it any easier when those duties keep them separated by an entire ocean, and all he wishes for is this closeness and intimacy, these gifts which he treasures and to which he has grown so accustomed. Being back here, in Alexander’s arms, is absolute heaven. 

Now that they’re here, pressed against one another, Alexander’s movements grow more desperate. Fingers dig into his back, his tongue plunges into John’s mouth, exploring every inch of it like he’s never tasted something so sweet. John can’t stand to put any distance between them, so he doesn’t pull away as he slides his hand between the press of their bodies, palming at the front of his breeches, providing welcome friction against which Alexander twitches his hips, a broken moan tearing from his throat. 

John hasn’t touched anyone like this in months, and that noise alone is enough to raise his own arousal. 

But they need to be quieter. 

When his hand retreats, he puts a foot of space between them, breaking off the kiss. Alexander pouts in response. It’s a ridiculous gesture, but John can’t laugh when all he wants is to tear Alexander’s clothes from that beautiful body and get him on his back. To reach down and touch him again until he is squirming and begging for more. To see those perfect lips part around a silent cry of blissful release as he tries to hold back the urge to vocalize his pleasure. John feels his cock twitch in anticipation and knows that  _ he  _ won’t last long when Alexander turns diligent attention towards his needs. It’s been too long and his body is too desperate to surrender to Alexander and all of the wonderful ways in which he is perfectly suited to take John apart. 

“You must keep quiet, Alexander,” he says with a gentle smile, squinting slightly to make out his flushed cheeks in the relative darkness of the tent. Night has fallen already, and the lantern in the corner isn’t doing much to illuminate the small space, but that’s alright. He could replay Alexander’s expressions in moments like this from memory alone. 

“I know,” he says in a hushed whisper. “It’s just been so long.” 

John knows. God does he know.

He takes one of Alexander’s hands and leads him to his cot, pushes him down gently. “Then let me take care of you.” He crawls up beside him and reaches for the laces of his breeches with deft fingers. It only takes a moment to undo the knots with practiced ease. He tugs Alexander’s shirt out from where it is tucked and rucks it farther up his torso, safely out of the way. Then he slips a hand inside, fingers cold from the chill of the night and his long day of traveling in the crisp autumn air brushing up against warm, velvety skin. Alexander breathes a sharp inhale at the touch and squirms. 

“You’re freezing,” he hisses through his teeth. But he doesn’t push away. 

Unwilling to keep his distance now, John doesn’t remove his hand completely, just shifts it over and lower to the skin of Alexander’s thigh, allowing soft flesh to thaw the cold. “It’ll warm,” he assures him, brushing his fingers back and forth, already feeling their temperatures balancing towards an equilibrium.

After a minute of this, John moves his hand back, and Alexander only twitches uncomfortably for a brief moment before he adjusts to the touch, lifting his hips to press closer against him once again. 

“I’ve missed you,” Alexander sighs quietly in that soft, reverential tone that is reserved for John alone. His voice catches on a gasp at the end as John’s grip tightens around his stiffening length and begins moving, slow, gentle, just a brief taste as he builds towards more. 

“I know.” He’s missed Alexander too. More than he knows how to convey verbally, so his actions will have to speak for him instead. Fingers brush over the sensitive skin at the tip of Alexander’s cock, and he jolts beneath him on the cot, muscles in his thighs pulled tight as need coils just below the surface. 

John leans down, staring into deep, dark eyes before he brings their lips together once again, moving his hand in time to the beat of his own heart. Catalogues the tiny, restrained noises Alexander makes into the kiss as John’s grip turns more firm, his pace speeding incrementally as the blood races faster through his veins. This is what he dreamed of every night while he was gone, Alexander underneath him, on top of him, gasping and moaning as he falls apart under John’s touch. He’s dreamed of it so many times recently, it’s hard to believe this time is actually real. His brain entertains the fleeting thought that it  _ could  _ be a dream. If it is, John never wants to wake from it. 

He can tell when Alexander is close. His back arches and those beautiful eyes squeeze shut and the subconscious pulsing of his hips into John’s hand turns more deliberate, chasing the height of ecstasy as it rises up within him like the waves of the ocean that have prevented this for far too long. 

John twists his wrist and applies pressure in just the right way, utilizing knowledge gathered from countless other nights together to expertly tip Alexander over the edge. He chokes down a desperate cry of pleasure as his seed coats John’s hand and his own stomach, and John watches as a blissed out expression softens his face, savors the quiet, gasping, shuddering breaths as he rides out the aftershocks of his release. Alexander’s eyes are still closed when John leans down again, bracing himself with his clean hand against the cot and captures his lips in another kiss. Alexander hums a note of surprise, but melts into the feel of it, sated and content to accept the tender affection. The kiss is softer this time, lingering, filled with all of the unspoken promises John knows he can’t speak aloud. Even if he survives this war, there are a million things he wishes for with Alexander that he’s not permitted to have. He’s not sure he can live without them. But for now the war is still ongoing, and he is here, with Alexander smiling up at him as he pulls back from the kiss, their faces only inches apart. For now, in the intimacy of their tent, he is in heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


End file.
